Page 46
Story: Royal Crush
I’d drifted. My face flushed with shame as I looked up, but Camillo’s expression was the furthest thing from bothered. He looked…kind. Soft. Tender in ways I didn’t expect him to ever look at me. He pressed his hands to the cushion and shifted closer to the edge, and then he hooked a knuckle under my chin the way he did before.
My head tilted easily. There was no fight in me. Not with him. Despite the times I’d been defensive and shitty with him, it was a ruse. I wanted to bend for him.
To break for him.
And only because I knew he would never try to break me.
“Touch me.”
His skin was on display now. His pecs were taut, stomach soft and round, and he had thick dark hair from the waistband of his trousers all the way up his sternum. It split in two, circling around his pert, small nipples, and my mouth watered with the desire to taste them.
Rising higher on my knees, I spread my hand out over his stomach where I knew he couldn’t feel it. He sucked in a breath anyway, his gaze fierce on where my palm was touching him, and he watched without breathing again as I dragged my hand upward.
His upper body flinched when I reached that spot again.
“There.”
I dug my fingers in. I’d done this before—in my trailer. It had been by accident the first time I’d squeezed him there, but the second time had been very, very deliberate. Knowing I could make him react—could make him lose his composure even for a second—was a power I wasn’t sure I was responsible enough to wield.
But I didn’t care. I would do everything I could not to be reckless with this man who deserved to be treated better than he had been.
“Tell me what to do.”
“Your mouth,” he instructed.
Somehow, I knew what he meant. Two short words erupted like a novel in my head. Lean in, part my lips, let that spot on his body feel tongue and teeth. He smelled freshly showered and musky with cologne as I buried my nose against his skin.
His hand dropped down to the back of my head to guide me, and I took another deep breath in before I parted my lips and dug my top teeth against his flesh. He grunted, then let out a soft moan—a sort of quiet “Ahh” that sounded entirely involuntary.
I had a feeling he was the kind of person who very rarely let someone know they could make him feel good. I understood exactly what it was like to give someone that power, and it was terrifying. But I wanted him to trust me. I needed him to trust me.
I bit down, and he groaned, falling back against the cushions as his fingers tightened in my hair. “Just like that. Higher. Harder.”
I obeyed, rising onto my knees, trailing licking, biting kisses toward his right nipple. It was pebbled against my lips as I closed them on the tip, and he sucked in a sharp breath, pressing my face so tightly against his pec I was immediately air hungry.
He didn’t make me suffer though. He didn’t make me beg to be let go. He held on for just long enough, and then he released me. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was pulling all the way back. I dug my fingers into his sides, stroking along his ribs as my tongue toyed with his nipple.
“The other side. Please,” he whispered.
I lifted off him, and before I could shift my position, he caught me by the chin. “You are perfect.”
My cock thickened and throbbed and flooded my briefs with precome. I fought the urge to reach between my legs and touch myself, but I didn’t know if that would bother him. And right now, I needed this to be about him.
“Just like you did before. You’re making me feel so good, Aleric.”
Why did my name sound like that on his lips? And how? It was like a psalm being sung in an echoing cathedral. He made me feel…different. There were no words to describe it, but I wanted to protect it with everything I had.
I sank into the feeling as I paid attention to his other nipple, and when he began to tense, I knew then it was too much and pulled away before he could ask. There was something in his expression when I met his gaze. Something like wonder.
“Kiss me.”
I did.
He tasted like rich coffee and spices—cinnamon and nutmeg and chili. His tongue was warm and wet and demanding as it explored my mouth, leaving no space untouched. He flicked it against mine, sending waves of pleasure through my body, and it took me a moment to realize that he’d lifted me high to straddle him.
I felt him beneath me—both hard and soft, strong and pliant. His fingers kneaded my ass cheeks, and he began to urge me to rock against him.
“Are you paying attention?” he asked.
My head tilted easily. There was no fight in me. Not with him. Despite the times I’d been defensive and shitty with him, it was a ruse. I wanted to bend for him.
To break for him.
And only because I knew he would never try to break me.
“Touch me.”
His skin was on display now. His pecs were taut, stomach soft and round, and he had thick dark hair from the waistband of his trousers all the way up his sternum. It split in two, circling around his pert, small nipples, and my mouth watered with the desire to taste them.
Rising higher on my knees, I spread my hand out over his stomach where I knew he couldn’t feel it. He sucked in a breath anyway, his gaze fierce on where my palm was touching him, and he watched without breathing again as I dragged my hand upward.
His upper body flinched when I reached that spot again.
“There.”
I dug my fingers in. I’d done this before—in my trailer. It had been by accident the first time I’d squeezed him there, but the second time had been very, very deliberate. Knowing I could make him react—could make him lose his composure even for a second—was a power I wasn’t sure I was responsible enough to wield.
But I didn’t care. I would do everything I could not to be reckless with this man who deserved to be treated better than he had been.
“Tell me what to do.”
“Your mouth,” he instructed.
Somehow, I knew what he meant. Two short words erupted like a novel in my head. Lean in, part my lips, let that spot on his body feel tongue and teeth. He smelled freshly showered and musky with cologne as I buried my nose against his skin.
His hand dropped down to the back of my head to guide me, and I took another deep breath in before I parted my lips and dug my top teeth against his flesh. He grunted, then let out a soft moan—a sort of quiet “Ahh” that sounded entirely involuntary.
I had a feeling he was the kind of person who very rarely let someone know they could make him feel good. I understood exactly what it was like to give someone that power, and it was terrifying. But I wanted him to trust me. I needed him to trust me.
I bit down, and he groaned, falling back against the cushions as his fingers tightened in my hair. “Just like that. Higher. Harder.”
I obeyed, rising onto my knees, trailing licking, biting kisses toward his right nipple. It was pebbled against my lips as I closed them on the tip, and he sucked in a sharp breath, pressing my face so tightly against his pec I was immediately air hungry.
He didn’t make me suffer though. He didn’t make me beg to be let go. He held on for just long enough, and then he released me. There wasn’t a chance in hell I was pulling all the way back. I dug my fingers into his sides, stroking along his ribs as my tongue toyed with his nipple.
“The other side. Please,” he whispered.
I lifted off him, and before I could shift my position, he caught me by the chin. “You are perfect.”
My cock thickened and throbbed and flooded my briefs with precome. I fought the urge to reach between my legs and touch myself, but I didn’t know if that would bother him. And right now, I needed this to be about him.
“Just like you did before. You’re making me feel so good, Aleric.”
Why did my name sound like that on his lips? And how? It was like a psalm being sung in an echoing cathedral. He made me feel…different. There were no words to describe it, but I wanted to protect it with everything I had.
I sank into the feeling as I paid attention to his other nipple, and when he began to tense, I knew then it was too much and pulled away before he could ask. There was something in his expression when I met his gaze. Something like wonder.
“Kiss me.”
I did.
He tasted like rich coffee and spices—cinnamon and nutmeg and chili. His tongue was warm and wet and demanding as it explored my mouth, leaving no space untouched. He flicked it against mine, sending waves of pleasure through my body, and it took me a moment to realize that he’d lifted me high to straddle him.
I felt him beneath me—both hard and soft, strong and pliant. His fingers kneaded my ass cheeks, and he began to urge me to rock against him.
“Are you paying attention?” he asked.
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